


A Wanted Kiss

by Underthenorthernlights



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 14:16:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Underthenorthernlights/pseuds/Underthenorthernlights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fight, a deceleration, a kiss.</p>
<p>I wrote this awhile ago and thought I would post it here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Wanted Kiss

**All characters belong to the master GRRM**

 

Sansa had enough.

  
_Gods that man is going to be death of me_ , Sansa thought furiously as she struggled through the muck and mud of the spring thaw. Her dress and cloak were heavy, caked with mud even though she had hiked them up past her calfs, her long legs sheathed in warm, fur lined boots.  Every once in awhile Stranger would prod at the back of her head, enraging her more. It seemed to be a little game between Sandor and Stranger. Sandor mocking her and Stranger nudging her forward.

"The little bird is getting mad now is she?" Sandor sneered, " Might be she misses eating her lemon cakes in her high tower or might be she misses her little lord husband to warm her bed?"

That had been the last straw, Sansa whirled around, her eyes flashing in anger.

"How dare you, you know nothing, nothing about what happened in my bed with Tyrion!" Sansa yelled, her eyes filling with tears, cheeks red with heated anger.

"I bet he thought he had pretty little catch didn't he, girl?" Sandor leered, the side of his mouth twitching, in a mocking smile.

Sansa stood there, her mouth gaping in disbelief. She could not believe Sandor right now. They had been on the road for almost two moons and they had not talked about anything. Just small talk about the weather, the best way to get to Winterfell, and not sharing to many details of their past lives. Sandor did not have much to say on most days. He would give the occasional grunt or snort when Sansa would start chirping away. She was grateful that he had found her, she knew he would never hurt her or manipulate her like the previous men in her life. She had not complained once, not a once till this morning, when she had dared to mention the cold ground they slept on together sharing body heat and the hard, dry black bread they broke their fast with.

She stood there, glaring up at him, her eyes flashing at him, Sandor was what he liked to be called now, he had said The Hound was dead. Sansa stood her ground, her eyes never breaking contact with his. He finally looked away, and leaned over Strangers side and spit. Sandor reached his hand towards her, beckoning her to come closer.

"Come on little bird we have to keep up the pace if you want to get back to your miserable Winterfell, now get up here," he rasped commandingly.

"You cannot tell me what to do, I would rather walk to Winterfell then sit another minute on that saddle with you!" Sansa exclaimed haughtily. She was tired of riding all day with his need pushing into her back. There was no denying it, but yet it went unsaid day after day, night after night. He desired her, she knew that, but he acted like nothing was amiss.

"Get your little highborn arse up here now or I will tie you to Stranger and you can ride him backwards the rest of the way," Sandor growled through gritted teeth.

Sansa peered up at him and gasped, his narrowed eyes told her he was not bluffing. That is when she decided to turn and run headlong into the bush that was alongside the road. She could not take it anymore. So she ran.

Sansa could hear Stranger stomping through the woods behind her, Sandor cursing all the seven buggering gods, demanding her to stop before she broke her neck. Sansa did not care, she just needed to run and get away from them. She finally stopped, and fell against a twisted tree, it's gnarled, white branches reaching to almost touch the sky, red leaves slowly coming alive with the warmth of the spring sun. She knelt there, and started sobbing, sobbing like a woman who had nothing left. This was how Sandor found her. He slowly dismounted, grunting as his bad leg met the ground. He gently gave Stranger a pat on the neck. The two of them stood there, Sandor awkwardly trying to figure out how to approach a distraught Sansa and Stranger snorting, annoyed, all the while nudging Sandor in the shoulder as if to say " _Go_ _to_ _her_ "

Sandor slowly walked towards Sansa and she looked up at him. Her eyes were more blue then he remembered. He also noticed she had never looked more beautiful then at this moment.

"I dreamed of you, every night after you left Kings Landing, I dreamed it was you on my wedding night, of you, Sandor Clegane." Sansa whispered, a hiccup escaping her hitched breath. "And yet you dare to mock me, I had no choice but to marry Tyrion, you left, they all said you turned craven, I never once thought you craven, not a once, and here we are and yet you still have the gull to mock me." Sansa cried hurtfully.

"Sansa.." Sandor started.

"No, I don't want to hear anymore, I love you Sandor, only the gods know why but I love you, but you make it so difficult to like you right now," Sansa declared with a slight quiver in her voice. She looked away, not able to meet his eyes any longer, realizing what she had just admitted.

"Little.." Sandor tried again.

Sansa raised her arm to silence him. Her chest heaving. She could not take anymore of his hurtful words.  For so long she had hidden herself away from the world, living a lie, being someone else. She had shed Alayne, but yet sometimes it seemed he could not shed The Hound.

Sandor stood there, towering over this girl, no woman, stunned at her words. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest he felt the whole seven kingdoms would hear it. She could say these words _"I love you"_ yet he could say nothing. Yes, Sandor Clegane was at a loss for words. He just stood there, towering over her, his hands clenched at his side, nails digging into the skin of his palms.

Sansa drew a shaky breath and stood up. She stood there for a second in his shadow and started to walk away. All her life she had been educated to use courtesy, to say the right words, not to raise her voice, but this man, he brought a new emotion out of her. Sansa had never felt so alive.

Sandor reached out and grabbed her arm, gently and tugged her around to face him.

" I..I am sorry..Sandor...you just..make me.." Sansa sputtered quickly.

"You love _me_ , little bird?" Sandor interrupted with a rasp, not caring a wit what it was she had said previously. He pulled her closer, softly pinching her chin forcing her to look up and meet his curious grey eyes.

"Yes, I love you, I love you, love you," she whispered, gripping his forearms with a ferocity that she never knew before. "Please Sandor, but I can't say what is your heart," she softly said, her voice breaking.

Sandor could not take his eyes off her, this woman, this little bird, she loved him. Him, a miserable old dog who did not deserve such a precious declaration.

"Little bird, I love you too," he softly growled as he pulled her closer still. " I think I found what I wanted for so long," he said swallowing hard.

Sansa moved her arms up to snake around his neck.

Sandor lowered his hands to span around her tiny waist and lifted her up. Sansa looked down at him, finally towering over the man she loved. Her hood blew away from her face and her glorious auburn locks cascaded around them. Sandor shifted his arms and wrapped one arm under her bottom, holding her up and hooked the other across her shoulders, his long fingers tangled in her hair. Sansa wrapped her legs around his middle like it was the normal thing to do and cupped both sides of his face and bent her head to meet his cruel, ruined lips. Sandor craned his head up and claimed her sweet mouth. Time had seemed to freeze until they heard a snort of impatience coming from Stranger. Sansa giggled and buried her head in Sandor's twisted mess of scars. She was blushing furiously because as Alayne she had experienced many unwanted kisses, but as Sansa Stark, well she finally got the kiss she had always dreamed of.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a one shot, I can't commit to a long fic and would not want to post something and not finish or regularly update. Maybe one day :)


End file.
